A/N – Rushed chapter again! Sorry… At least it's up though, right? Anyway, enjoy! : )

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Chapter 11

Peter was in a daze for an hour.

"Peter?" Walter had prompted hesitantly after finishing his story, and Peter had stared at him, not knowing where to begin. Then instinct had kicked in. He'd given an absent smile, said something inane but reassuring—he couldn't remember what—and gone to speak with the doctor about getting his father released. The doctor had agreed and begun making the appropriate preparations. She'd seemed glad to be rid of them. He supposed he couldn't blame her.

Still in a daze, he'd signed the forms and gotten a taxi to bring them home. As he'd opened the door to their apartment and stepped inside, he'd fought the feeling of surrealism that swirled in his gut, up through his chest, to his head. Foggy, he'd thought. That was the feeling. Maybe. Must be the lack of sleep. Walter kept sending him furtive glances of concern, but Peter kept pretending he didn't notice.

"Peter?" Walter had prompted again after changing into his pajamas, and Peter had encouraged the man to get some rest. He'd smiled, not sure where the peaceful expression came from. It was certainly far from how he felt. Walter had appeared confused by his serenity as well. He'd seemed anxious about letting Peter out of his sight though, so Peter had waited with Walter until the older man had fallen asleep. Even afterwards, Peter continued to sit there, just watching. The brightening house around him was still and silent in the morning light—other than Walter's light snores.

As the sun strengthened, however, it was as though his brain switched back on, whirring slowly to a start again as it rebooted, and suddenly he couldn't breathe. He stared at Walter, and the weight of it all hit him. He didn't know how he felt. He didn't know how to feel. Getting up with shaking hands, he walked into the kitchen in the hopes that there was still a beer left in the fridge as he tried to sort through the emotional muck.

So he was dead? He wondered distractedly what Olivia would think of that, how much she already suspected, and wished she were here. But, of course, he wasn't dead; it was the other… He was alive. Obviously. But he should be dead. He should have died. But he hadn't.

Realizing he'd been staring into the fridge for several minutes without really seeing the contents, he shut the door. He doubted the beer would help anyway. It'd probably just make it worse. His confusion was pervasive enough as it was. But there was something beneath the confusion, some underpinning emotion that he couldn't quite pin down. Peter glanced over his shoulder as Walter let out a loud snuffle. He smothered a smirk, watching in amusement as Walter's nose twitched, and suddenly he realized what the feeling was.

Relief.

It wasn't an emotion he would have expected to feel after hearing the man he knew as his father finally tell him the details of how he'd come to be here from an alternate universe. He should be shocked, he thought. He'd just found out that some version of him was dead, decaying in the ground somewhere in Boston. He should be creeped out beyond belief. He'd just found out that Walter had inadvertently caused the pattern, the grisly cases, the horrific deaths and unanswered questions—because of him, because he'd been sick and Walter had loved him. He should have felt guilty or infuriated or, more likely still, a very solid mixture of both. And he did. The confused swirl fogging his mind was all of those emotions, as well as several others he didn't dare give names to just yet.

But Olivia had been right: it wasn't as much of a lie as he'd thought. Walter hadn't stolen him. Not really. Or at least, not intentionally. Not like Peter had thought anyway, and because of it he didn't have to be angry anymore. He didn't have the heart to squash that rising feeling of relief, and the feeling mixed with a strange gratitude as it rose. He was alive today because, seeing his son in need, Walter hadn't been able to let even a version of Peter that wasn't technically his die. Walter had been saving him… He and Peter's mother just hadn't been able to let go afterward. But then, on some cosmic, karmic level, maybe Walter had been somewhat justified in keeping the boy from the alternate universe that he'd rescued, given that he'd been the one to save him…

Man, that was twisted. He shook his head and leaned heavily on the kitchen counter. No. Maybe not. Surely his original family was owed an explanation at the very least…

But regardless, the feeling of relief was an exhalation after the tension of all the worst-case scenarios he'd imagined—of an unfeeling bandit Walter, conducting a dastardly kidnapping in the dead of night. It didn't erase the fact that there were consequences for what Walter had done—already horrific, although mostly still unknown at this point. But it had been a crime of grief, not malice. And because of it, Peter was alive.

For better or worse, what was done was done.

He ran a hand over his head and let out a ragged sigh. Moving to stand beside Walter's bed again, he crossed his arms. He could forgive Walter for what he'd done. Walter was human, and Peter suspected he'd done what any distraught parent would have—if those parents were also scientific geniuses. But he knew that they hadn't seen the end of this, and that knowledge was the weight that finally deflated his balloon of relief. His head pounded, vision blurring slightly, and he rubbed his temple absently as he fought to swallow the uneasy stone in his throat. A collision of worlds.

Walter could very well have doomed them all.

"You shouldn't have done it, Walter," he whispered, voice unsteady.

He didn't expect a response, but the sleeping scientist seemed to hear him from his dreams. He turned over and smacked his lips for a moment, brow creased in sorrow, before muttering a muffled, "I know."

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Olivia woke and instantly knew she was alone. It was how she usually woke—how she normally preferred to wake—and she tried to ignore the fact that it no longer felt like enough. The empty half of the bed behind her felt cold, ached like something was missing, but she stubbornly sat up and rubbed a hand against her eyes. Catching sight of a piece of paper on her bedside table, she reached over and picked it up with a frown.

Hey, Olivia,

I'm going to head back over to the hospital. I need to talk to Walter. I think you know why, and I hope you understand. I'll be back, but I just can't let this go right now. I'm sorry.

Love,

Peter

She stared at the note, her attention momentarily focusing on one word. Love. Seeing the word written out somehow sent that old chill of fear through her, that old distrust of getting too close, but she felt her mouth curve up in a smile. She couldn't mess this up. She wouldn't, not for all the emotional baggage in the world. A vague memory of Peter leaning down to kiss her forehead as she slept stirred in her mind, and the memory gently washed away most of the fear. She loved him.

And she trusted him. If he said he'd be back, he'd be back. She pictured him waiting alone in Walter's hospital room for the answers he craved, however, and frowned. A part of her wished he'd woken her up, let her come with him, so at least he didn't have to face this alone, but she knew this was the way it had to be for now. Peter and Walter needed to work this out on their own first. The rest would come later.

Sighing, Olivia got out of bed and prepared to get ready for the day, whatever it might hold.

After showering, getting dressed, and eating breakfast, however, Olivia was beginning to worry. Peter had left hours ago. Was he all right? What had Walter told him? But no sooner had she talked herself out of calling him—maybe he just needed space to take it all in—than her phone rang. She hastily finished shoving her cereal bowl into the dishwasher with a clatter as she looked at the caller ID on her cell phone. Peter.

She grabbed the cell phone off the counter and picked up. "Hello?"

"Olivia."

His voice was tired, heavy, but something seemed to lift off it relief as he heard her voice. Her worry immediately shot up a notch. "Peter. Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he assured her. "I got Walter released from the hospital, but I had to bring him home. Astrid was staying with him, but I sent her home to get some rest. She'd been there all night."

She immediately understood what he left unsaid. He couldn't leave Walter alone, not now, and he couldn't ask Astrid to take over. He was stuck there. "I'll be over in ten minutes," she said, wishing she could see his face to read it. She didn't like what little she could read in his voice. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"I will be. Olivia… thanks. See you soon."

"See you soon," she echoed, then hung up. She immediately slipped the phone into her pocket, grabbed her coat and keys, and headed out the door. Peter needed her.

When she arrived ten minutes later, she knocked on the door and waited, foot tapping idly. After a moment, Peter opened the door. His mouth gently curved up in a relieved smile as his eyes met hers. He leaned in and drew her into a gentle kiss, hand resting on her shoulder, before letting out a long breath. "Hey…"

"I came as fast as I could," she said, stepping inside. As he closed the door behind her, she studied his face, looking for the cracks she had heard in his voice on the phone.

Sure enough, there they were. Beneath that tired smile, she could see veins of uneasiness—a weight lifted, a weight added. His eyes followed hers, and she could see he knew what she was thinking. Clearly sensing her concern, his wan smile widened slightly and he traced a hand down her arm. He shook his head in a reassuring gesture and pulled her into an embrace. "I'm all right," he promised into her hair. She held him tightly, noting that she could still smell the antiseptic scent of hospital on his shirt. They stayed like that for a moment until, pulling back, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

She looked up at him tentatively. "Was it bad?"

He let out a melancholy laugh. "Well, that depends. As you know, nothing with Walter is ever straightforward. So which do you want first, the good news or the bad news?"

"Both."

One side of his mouth quirked up in a sad smile, and she knew he knew what she meant. She wanted the whole story, the way he'd heard it. He nodded. Then, taking her arm, he led her to the living room and sat her down on the brown leather couch next to him. She waited anxiously until he began a moment later, voice soft.

When he finished speaking, Olivia was still. Staring toward the room down the hall where she knew Walter was sleeping, she swallowed, bowed her head, looked back up at Peter. His eyes met hers. He looked exhausted, and the full range of his emotions played out transparently on his lined face. There was no need to speak. He brushed his fingers along her cheek, and she leaned in to rest her head on his shoulder as they settled back onto the couch. Both resting in gratitude for the other's presence and unspoken uncertainty, they relaxed drowsily into one another. They would get through this. Walter would find a way.

She hoped.

With that final thought, she drifted off into an uneasy sleep, Peter's arm around her.

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"Peter! Peter, wake up!"

Peter woke with a start, inadvertently dislodging the sleeping Olivia in the process and waking her as well. The two blinked at each other in confusion before looking up to see Walter standing over them anxiously. "Are you awake?" Walter wondered worriedly, shifting from one foot to the other.

Peter's mouth turned downward. "I'd have to go with a yes." He and Olivia sat up, and Peter rubbed one eye, the other never leaving his father. His head pounded. What time was it?

Olivia was quicker to wake fully. Sitting up straighter, she met Walter's anxious expression with a matching one of her own. "Is something wrong?"

The scientist hesitated. "Not immediately wrong, no," he replied, but his harried expression didn't fade. He shifted feet again. "We need to go to the lab right away."

Peter's brow creased in confusion. Something was definitely wrong, "immediately" or not. "Why? Walter, what's going on?"

"You still want to stay, yes?" the older man asked, face full of painful hope and hesitance. "You still want to stay in this universe?"

Expression softening, Peter nodded. He could feel Olivia's warmth from where their bodies met, and he felt his shoulders relax. "Yeah. I do."

Walter looked immediately relieved. "Good, good…" he said with a small smile. "But, if that's true, we need to get to work."

Get to work? At first he didn't realize what Walter was talking about, but as he followed his father's gaze to where it rested on Olivia, he stiffened. "No. Walter, we talked about this. Not that way."

"But…" Walter's eyebrows knit together and he wrung his hands. "But… Peter, I can't think of any other way to—"

"Hey, it's ok," Peter said, reaching up to place a reassuring hand on his father's arm. "Walter, you'll figure something else out. I know you will. You've got a whole week."

Eyes widening, his eyebrows shot up in alarm. "A week? What happens in a week?"

"After that, he's agreed to do it the first way," Olivia explained. "He promised." Her eyes turned to Peter's, and he could see that there was no way she was going to let him back out of their deal.

His throat constricted, but he smiled weakly. That wasn't gonna happen. "Walter will find something before then. Won't you, Walter?"

Walter's hesitant expression wasn't reassuring. "I-I'll try… But… it took me over a year to come up the concept for the synergetic bond in the first place. Peter, I don't know if—Peter, what if I can't—"

"Hey, hey, it'll be fine," Peter said quickly in reassurance. Hoping to calm the man, he stood, but to his surprise the world immediately seemed to tilt. When he righted himself, he found that Olivia had jumped to her feet beside him, gripping his arm in support with a concerned expression on her face. He frowned. What had happened?

"Are you all right?" she wondered, eyes roving his face.

Was he? He thought so. The brief bout of dizziness seemed to have faded, and he could have easily convinced himself that it hadn't happened to begin with were it not for the look on her face. He laughed softly, hoping to dispel her worry. "Yeah, I'm fine. Must have just gotten up too fast."

She looked doubtful for a moment before averting her eyes downward, and Peter turned his gaze to Walter. Walter was studying him, brow creased into that pensive expression he adopted whenever he was trying to remember something. Clearly, he was unsuccessful, as he frowned a moment later. "We should get to work," his father said at last, eyes not leaving Peter. "There is much to be done…"

Olivia nodded and reluctantly released Peter's arm. "We can take my car." She glanced back at him briefly before leading the way out to her car. By the time they arrived at the lab, Peter had already put the incident out of his mind. He just hoped Walter could find another solution… Sitting down next to Olivia, he tenderly kissed the top of her head and let her presence soothe him as they watched Walter work in tense silence.

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A/N – No updates for another week at least. (booooo end of the semester crunch…) I've got it planned out though, and next week's update will get into some good stuff, I think… You'll just have to wait and see. : )

Thanks for reading, and I love reviews, so feel free! And thanks to all those who've reviewed already; it really makes my day. : )

In response to the recent comment on Chapter 3 by "random reader": I hadn't really planned on explaining about Usamah Webb, since it didn't really seem to move the main plot forward—but I can. The way I always figured his character was that his mom was Middle Eastern, but his dad was American. His parents wanted to keep both aspects of his background in his upbringing, so they named him Usamah Webb (Usamah being Middle Eastern and Webb being more American). He was interested in his different backgrounds too, so he became a history major. He also just liked music, so that's why he was a music minor. But again, it didn't seem important to the Fringe storyline, so I didn't explain it—sorry! I hope that satisfies your curiosity though! : )